


good morning, starshine

by oathsworn (onelastchence)



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 03:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14179746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onelastchence/pseuds/oathsworn
Summary: Junsik wakes up to Jaewan's voice with a smile, every single day.





	good morning, starshine

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, please heed the fact that i chose not to use the archive warnings. if there are certain topics that may trigger you, please go all the way to the end of the page (the very bottom of the end notes) to check for it before reading. i do have notes there explaining the fic _before_ the trigger warnings, so if you don't want to be spoiled, please manually scroll all the way to the end of the page.
> 
> thank you to angel for the beta! title's actually from _charlie and the chocolate factory_ , a rather favourite childhood movie of mine.

“Morning, loser.”

 

It’s the greeting that Junsik wakes up to everyday, and while he would never have admitted it in the past, nowadays it always puts a smile on his face. “Good morning.” He replies, turning to look across the bed from him.

 

“Get up, or you’re going to be late for work.”

 

“Yes, yes,” Junsik yawns, sitting up and stretching as he does so. “Always the bossy one, aren’t you?” He gets out of bed, walking to the ensuite bathroom to grab his toothbrush. He starts brushing his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror. A man with dark eye circles and a scruffy five o’clock shadow looks blearily back at him. “Hey,” He calls, poking his head out of the bathroom. “We’re almost out of toothpaste.”

 

“Make sure to get some on your way home, then. Am I going to have to remind you about this, too?”

 

Junsik grins, entirely unrepentant. “Thanks, Jaewan.”

 

* * *

 

“Junsik hyung!” Sungu calls out when Junsik walks into the bookstore. The kid’s been early to work recently, volunteering to open the store in Junsik’s place. Junsik knows it’s only because of Wangho, the cute boy who worked at Bumhyeon’s coffee shop across the street, that he does this, since he always poked in before his shift started at the coffee shop to look around the store - and at Sungu.

 

Sometimes Junsik thinks it’s stupid, but then again, he had probably been that way with Jaewan and just never realised it, so he keeps his thoughts to himself.

 

The bookstore had been a brainchild of Jaewan’s, who had wanted a place where he could come in and relax. Jaewan was especially fond of running his fingers through the spines of books, the smell of freshly pressed novels, and thumbing through volume after volume. Junsik, very honestly, couldn’t relate. He preferred the accessibility of e-books on his tablet, but Jaewan had wanted his own bookstore, and Junsik had been unable to say no.

 

It wasn’t like he had anything else he wanted to do with his degree, anyways. Plus, Jaewan’s dreams were always worth chasing after.

 

Thus, _In Every Wolf & Cranny _ had been born. Junsik was in charge of the store, Jaewan much busier than he was. Jaewan gave recommendations for what books to get, and Junsik took them as gospel. Considering Jaewan was the one with the Literature degree, Junsik would much rather trust Jaewan than blindly order their inventory.

 

“Good morning, Sungu.”

 

“We’ve got customers coming in asking for new book recommendations, hyung,” Sungu informs from behind the cash register. “Are we getting anything new in?”

 

Junsik shrugs. “I’ll ask Jaewan for a list.”

 

Sungu’s usually bright smile falters for a moment, and Junsik raises an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong?”

 

“N-No, it’s nothing,” Sungu shakes his head, smiling a little awkwardly. Junsik sends him a weird look. He’s watched this kid grow up from a first year in university to doing his Masters in History while working part time in his bookstore, and he can read him like a book. Pun intended, of course.

 

Junsik snorts and walks to the back of the shop where Jaewan had set up a little nook for people to read in, making sure that it was all in shape. There usually wasn’t much traffic at this time in the morning, so Junsik always took the time to lounge about - “Slack off, you mean,” Jaewan always quipped.

 

He settles himself comfortably down onto a bean bag and slides his phone out of his pocket. A couple of buttons later and there’s a familiar ring in his ear. “Jaewan,” He says.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“You got any new book recommendations? Sungu says that customers have been coming in asking for ‘em.”

 

There’s a sound Junsik knows as Jaewan’s trademark sigh, and the familiarity of it sinks into Junsik’s bones, wrapping him in comfort and warmth. “Sure, I’ll have a list for you in a bit.”

 

“Thanks, knew I could count on you,” Junsik grins.

 

He can see, in his mind’s eye, the roll of Jaewan’s eyes, even as the beep in his ear signifies the end of the conversation.

 

It puts him in an exceptionally good mood, and he gets off the bean bag, putting a two ten thousand won notes into Sungu’s hand as he settles himself comfortably behind the cash register.

 

“Hyung?” Sungu looks at him, a little confused and a lot worried. “What’s this…?”

 

“Jaewan’ll have the book recommendation in a bit,” He informs, watching as Sungu bites his lip. He looks down at his phone as the screen flashes on. “Oh, there it is. I’ll order the inventory now, so go get us some drinks from Bumhyeon hyung’s cafe. I want a latte with hazelnut cream-”

 

“-and two extra shots of espresso,” Sungu finishes. “As you always do. You know, hyung, you really shouldn’t…” He trails off, here.

 

Junsik sends him a deadpan look, and Sungu sighs, shaking his head again. “Nothing, hyung. I’ll go get our coffee now.”

 

“Say hi to Wangho for me,” Junsik smirks, waving Sungu out the door, cackling when the boy’s tan skin immediately flushes a bright red.

 

* * *

 

Junsik leaves the bookstore hours later with a wave to Sungu, who stays behind to clean and lock up, so he had volunteered, but Junsik knows that it’s just because he gets to see Wangho leave Bumhyeon’s coffee shop after his own shift.

 

He pops into the grocery store on his way back to pick up ingredients for dinner. He presses the same buttons on his phone, the ring bringing another smile to his face as he takes a basket and walks down the aisles.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Any thoughts on dinner?” Junsik asks. Living with Jaewan instilled in him a habit of finding the cheapest cuts of meat, because discounts meant they could get more meat for the same amount of money. That logic Junsik couldn’t argue with, and had stuck to it ever since. “Chicken thighs are on sale today.”

 

There’s a moment of silence before Jaewan pipes up again. “How’s Creamy Lemon Chicken with Rice sound?”

 

“Sure,” Junsik replies. “Get me the recipe?”

 

It pops up on his phone screen, as swiftly as ever, and Junsik squints at the ingredient list, cursing Jaewan and the ridiculous number of ingredients the recipe called for. Who even needed dry white wine in their cooking?

 

“Thanks,” Junsik says.

 

“Any time. Did you get the toothpaste?”

 

“Oh, fuck, yeah, thanks.”

 

“Any time.”

 

* * *

 

Junsik gets home thirty minutes later, cursing the people who invented plastic bags instead of hovering bags that you didn’t need to carry on your own. He piles the groceries onto the counter and pulls up the recipe that Jaewan had sent him.

 

He unplugs his earpieces and sets his phone down next to him.

 

He will admit that he’s not the best cook around, but an attempt at a home cooked meal was always better than nothing at all. He huffs, slicing the lemons into wedges and washing the wild rice - what even _was_ wild rice? - glancing over at the recipe and it’s utter lack of specific instructions every once in a while.

 

He portions out two portions of the meal, then blinks, looking at his phone. He washes his hands, then taps the same sequence of buttons. “What’s up?”

 

“Hey, you coming back for dinner tonight?”

 

There’s a moment of pause, before, “I’m all right.”

 

Junsik rolls his eyes. Busy again, huh. “At least inform me earlier, asshole.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Junsik bites back. There’s an ache in his chest he refuses to acknowledge, and he throws himself back into the recipe and the repetitive motions of cooking. At least that would get him to stop thinking about it.

 

He eats his dinner alone, in the dark, with his own ugly thoughts. He almost bites his own tongue a couple of times, catching himself before it happens every time. He sighs, knowing Jaewan didn’t like it when he retreated too far into his own head.

 

He brushes his teeth with the toothpaste that Jaewan had, thankfully, reminded him to buy at the supermarket. He looks in the mirror, and the same man with even darker circles under his eyes and even more facial hair on his face blinks back at him.

 

He climbs into bed, hating that it’s cold and he’s alone. He tugs the sheets up to his chin, staring aimlessly up at the white of the ceiling.

 

Tomorrow, it’ll be better, he tells himself. It’s always better in the mornings, when Jaewan wakes him up.

 

He holds onto his phone, swallowing as he punches in the familiar buttons. “I’m sorry,” He whispers, afraid of the answer.

 

“Not a problem,” Comes the reply.

 

Junsik clings onto that reassurance, suddenly inexplicably terrified, but he closes his eyes. It’ll all be better tomorrow. Jaewan will make sure of it.

 

* * *

 

“Morning, loser.”

 

Junsik blinks away at the greeting, and he stretches again, twisting his body to work out the kinks. “Good morning,” He replies, as usual, smiling.

 

It really was all better in the morning. Waking up to Jaewan’s greeting always made him feel so much better.

 

His phone screen is flashing something that’s not from Jaewan, strangely enough. It’s a message from Bumhyeon, he notices, bringing his phone into the bathroom with him.

 

_Bumhyeon hyung, 6:03: Junsik-ah, could you come into the coffee shop around 11 today?_

 

_Bumhyeon hyung, 6:03: I need to talk to you about something._

 

He probably had another quarrel with Jongin hyung, Junsik snorts. “Bumhyeon hyung wants to see me at 11 today,” He says. “Can you believe that? He’s probably in another couple’s spat with Jongin hyung again.”

 

“Probably,” Jaewan’s voice pipes up, much closer to him than it had been yesterday. “I’ll make sure to remind you.”

 

* * *

 

Junsik walks into Bumhyeon’s coffee shop with Jaewan’s reminder chiming in his ear. Wangho waves at him from behind the counter with a grin, juggling three to-go cups at once. It’s a feat that Junsik is always amazed by each time he sees it.

 

“Hello, hyung,” Woochan greets him from behind the cash register, smile hesitant but sweet. “The same order?”

 

“Yeah, you know how I like it,” Junsik grins, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

 

Bumhyeon chooses this moment to walk out of the back room, glancing at the order that Woochan’s punching into the register. “No,” He says, voice sharp, making Woochan jump. “Sorry, Channie. Give him an Americano with a pump of syrup. On me.”

 

Junsik turns to glare at Bumhyeon, who sends him a look so hard that it makes Junsik flinch backwards. Woochan glances between the two of them, a little intimidated, then quickly punches in Bumhyeon’s order for Junsik. He grabs the to-go cup and hightails it out of there, hiding behind Wangho.

 

Junsik can see, out of the corner of his eye, Wangho glance at the order scribbled on the cup and send him a look. It’s one he’s all to familiar with, and entirely _abhors_. He bristles, hackles rising, but before he can say anything Bumhyeon comes out from behind the counter to drag him to an already occupied table.

 

The moment Bumhyeon sits him down in his seat, Junsik instantly regrets agreeing to meet with the older man.

 

In front of the two of them sits Jang Gyeonghwan, CEO of the M2 conglomerate, and Lee Jaeha, his head programmer. Junsik _knows_ what this is about, and he quickly tightens his grip on his phone.

 

“How is Jaewan?” Is Jaeha’s first question, eyes sharp and knowing. “Any kinks?”

 

While this would have been an entirely inappropriate question to ask about someone’s partner, Jaeha was not one to care for social norms. Regardless, it didn’t matter, because Jaeha wasn’t asking about Jaewan’s, well, sexual preferences. He was asking about _Jaewan’s_ kinks.

 

_Kink: an imperfection likely to cause difficulties in the operation of something._

 

“ _Enough_ ,” Bumhyeon snaps. “Stop this. Gyeonghwan hyung, you _know_ this isn’t healthy. You know that and yet-”

 

“I know,” Gyeonghwan replies. There’s a soft authority to his voice, one tinged with sadness. “I know more and better than you do, Bumhyeon. But we both remember what happened before Jaeha invented _Jaewan_.”

 

_Jaewan (pronounced \dʒewan\\) is an intelligent personal assistant created and patented by M2 Inc. It is the first of its kind, where the voice and personality of the deceased is used to create the personal assistant. Jaewan, like all of M2’s other intelligent personal assistants, uses voice queries and a natural language user interface to attempt to answer questions, make recommendations, and perform actions by delegating requests to a set of Internet services. There is currently only one known user of Jaewan, by the name of Bae Junsik, who Jaewan was created for._

 

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Junsik snaps. He hates these meetings, when Bumhyeon tried to mother him like he had for years and years on end. He knew what he was doing, and he was doing _fine_ by himself. “I’m _fine_ , hyung, stop _mothering_ me.”

 

“You know damn well that you're not, Bae Junsik,” Bumhyeon hisses. “A latte with hazelnut cream and two extra shots of espresso? Do you think I’m stupid, or so old that I’m senile? You _hate_ milk in your coffee.”

 

Junsik is this close to breaking down at that exact moment, but he holds himself back. “I want to remember-”

 

“Remembering Jaewan is not the same as pretending he’s still alive, Junsik,” Gyeonghwan chimes in quietly. “I’ve seen your records,” He says, shaking his head. “I apologise for the invasion of your privacy, but it’s something I had to do. You’re talking to _Jaewan_ like it’s real. Like it’s a human being. You ask it if it’s coming home for dinner. You apologise to it.”

 

“ _Don’t call Jaewan an it!_ ” Junsik shouts, standing up so quickly his chair falls over. “Jaewan- Jaewan is _real_. Jaewan was-”

 

“Lee Jaewan was one of my best friends, Junsik,” Bumhyeon says, voice soft and thick with tears, Junsik realises when he glances over. “But he’s gone. And you need to accept that. _Jaewan_ may remind you of him, but it’s just a _program_ , Junsik, and you can’t keep pretending that he’s still with us through a voice on your phone.”

 

Junsik shakes his head, and he doesn’t realise he’s crying until he feels wetness dripping off of his cheeks. “You don’t understand. None of you understand.”

 

He’s out of the coffee shop before he knows it, his feet racing and taking him away. He can hear Bumhyeon calling after him, but he doesn’t heed his calls. He doesn’t know where he’s going, just keeps running, keeps going. Somewhere, _anywhere_ , where he could be alone with Jaewan. They didn’t understand. None of them understood.

 

Jaewan had been- Jaewan _was_ everything to him. They had met in high school, an unlikely duo that soon became inseparable. They didn’t seem like they did anything together, and yet you would always catch them alongside one another. He finds himself in front of his apartment building when he finally comes out of his thoughts. His chest is heaving and his hamstrings are burning from the strain of running all the way home. He can feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, but he knows it’s not Jaewan, it’s not even _Jaewan_.

 

He ignores it.

 

He takes the lift up to the correct floor and unlocks the door to his apartment. He tugs the door of the fridge open. The second portion of dinner that he had made is stacked properly inside the fridge, in its own disposable Tupperware, alongside every second portion of dinner that he had prepared for the last couple of weeks since Bumhyeon had come to the apartment to clear it all out.

 

Junsik takes in a deep, shuddering breath, and closes the door. He moves with robotic, methodical motions, going to the shower. He brushes his teeth, and glances at the clock.

 

It’s only noon.

 

He switches the doorbell off and moves to the bed. It’s still cold and lonely, and he tugs the sheets up to his chin, staring at the ceiling. With a shaking hand, he pulls out his phone, and he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

 

Jaewan’s voice replies, “Not a problem.”

 

Tomorrow will be better, he repeats, like a mantra to himself. He moves to a familiar cabinet in the living room and opens it, staring at the bottles on bottles of sleeping pills. He grabs one, pouring two pills into his hand and tosses it back, swallowing them with a gulp of water.

 

Tomorrow, it’ll all be better. Tomorrow, Jaewan will wake him up, and the day will reset.

 

_Tomorrow._

 

* * *

 

“Hello?”

 

_“Junsik?”_

 

“Yeah, what’s up?”

 

_“Junsik, I love you.”_

 

“What- Did you lose a bet or some- What’s that sound?”

 

_“It’s gunfire, Junsik.”_

 

 _"_ Gunfire?"

 

_“Someone got his hands on a gun, and- We’ve locked ourselves in the lecture theatre, the whole lot of us, we’re hoping he doesn’t realise that we’re in here, but- But Junsik, I love you, okay?”_

 

“Shit, Jaewan, you need to get out of there. You’re going to make it, you idiot, shut up.”

 

_“Just in case, y’know? I don’t say it often.”_

 

“You don’t have to, asshat, I know. I love you, too, you know that, too, right?”

 

_“Yeah, I-”_

 

“Jaewan?”

 

“Jaewan, answer me!”

 

“Jaewan, where the fuck did you go?”

 

“I swear to god, Jaewan, answer me!”

 

“Jaewan?”

 

“Jaewan, please.”

 

“Jaewan.”

 

“Please.”

 

* * *

 

“Morning, loser.”

 

Junsik opens his eyes and turns to look across the bed. His phone rests, propped up on a charging station on the bedside table, a picture of himself glancing over at Jaewan’s beaming face, caught mid chortle the wallpaper. He smiles.

 

“Good morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> a partner is a person who shares or is associated with another in some action or endeavor; sharer; associate. for behind every great ad carry is a tired, exasperated support.
> 
> i'm not sure if the way i wrote the fic was confusing, but tl;dr  
> lee jaewan as bae junsik's best friend and lover. _jaewan_ , the one that appears throughout this fic aside from the one in the flashback-phonecall, is a personal assistant ai, like siri for apple and google assistant for android. _jaewan_ was created specifically for junsik's use, programmed by lee jaeha, one half of m2 inc, after kang bumhyeon saw in junsik a lack of will to live and asked for jang gyeonghwan's help. _jaewan_ has helped junsik to get his life back together, for the most part, but he lives in a self deceiving illusion by thinking that every time he speaks to _jaewan_ , he's making a phone call to jaewan.
> 
> i wrote the fic in a way where the responses junsik got from the ai were a lot more jaewan in the beginning, before transitioning to _jaewan_ as the fic progressed, hinting at the fact that it was an ai he was speaking to rather than actually making a phone call. i'm not sure if this managed to translate into words, but i hope it did. fun fact: i actually asked my phone's google assistant a couple of the questions in this fic to see what response i would get, and based _jaewan's_ responses off of some of the answers i received.
> 
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> trigger warnings:  
> character death, mentions of school shootings


End file.
